The winter trees stripped bare of their summer foliage
dark now, skeletal forms.
It felt like walking underground
through a dark cathedral of roots.
As above so below, a full moon
lit my cathedral from above.
I was floating through finger shards of white light
The forest looked like giant black and white piano keys
Cracking branches whisper their own kind of music,
sharing secrets while they slumber.
Could they be dreaming of warm Spring winds bringing life back?
As I make my way home, the low hanging branches,
black skeletal fingers from a nightmare touched my shoulder,
I wonder what stories could be told…